


Forgiveness ?

by HeatherGiesbrecht



Category: Crimson Peak (2015), The Sixth Sense (1999)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Ghosts, Implied Violence, Implied/Referenced Incest, Murder, Post-Canon, Sibling Incest, Speculation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-28
Updated: 2015-10-19
Packaged: 2018-04-17 14:41:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4670474
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeatherGiesbrecht/pseuds/HeatherGiesbrecht
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Cole journeys to Allerdale Hall hoping to help the ghostly residents of the ancient home to find forgiveness. One thing he hadn't considered did they want it ?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Allerdale

**Author's Note:**

> New York Rose Electronics is my own creation. This is also my first Sixth Sense fanfic.

Cole had taken his two weeks vacation from New York Rose Electronics where he'd worked as a clerk for the last fifteen years to go to England. It was surprising how many ghosts a guy could meet in just one electronics store and the surrounding areas. In addition, how repetitive it was dealing with ghosts who had seemingly the same issues everyday - someone wanted revenge or not talking to their family before they died. So, it was hard not to want something different for a few days.  

Such as it was, he'd found himself drawn to Harding Poole, England by the infamous Allerdale Hall murders. In the late 1890's to early 1900's the brother and sister duo of Baronet/Sir Thomas and Lady Lucille Sharpe had drawn young women to their crumbling mansion using Thomas's title and charms as bait for their dowries. After the women had married Thomas and grown complacent, they were murdered. The only way the Sharpes killing spree had halted was because of an American woman called Edith Cushing, a potential victim Edith had stood against the Sharpes and killed Lucille in self-defence. Thomas fled from England never to be seen again, while Edith returned to America and lived out her days with a man called Dr. Alan McMichael. 

Here he was, at the ancient, blackened gates of Allerdale Hall itself. As he pushed the gates open the crumbling, blue-bricked visage of the three-storey mansion with its black shingled-roof, numerous tiny windows and mile long dirt path loomed ahead. The grass was kept short by the local heritage association, but the house itself hadn't been touched since the original murder investigation in 1902 had ended. Months ago, he'd had to get special permission to enter the place. Like most abandoned and haunted places there was a sense of lingering gloom in the air. The path he walked along led to a still very much intact staircase that was split in two joined in the middle by a landing that led to the threshold. Emblazoned on the landing's wall was the family crest of the Sharpes, only the incredibly faded outline of some type of animal remained on the blue stone. Impulse had him climbing the right staircase to stand before the weathered double doors.

For a moment, he hesitated to use the discoloured knocker; set in the bronze lion's mouth was a giant ruby around which hung the knocker itself. The second after, he reconsidered because it would be improper etiquette and could cause them to refuse his help. When the deep booms faded he opened a door and walked into the entrance hall, even rundown, as it was there was still a sense of faded grandeur. Off to the right was a wide, dark-wooded gothic staircase while dusty, gold-framed portraits covered the now water blackened walls of the first landing up to the third floor. Ten feet across from him was a hearth of faded white marble, a dust sheet and cobweb covered wingback chair sat before it.

His breath misted as a deformed humanoid shape made of blue energy appeared beside the chair. The energy suddenly coalesced into the form of a tall, pale-skinned woman with dark-hair in a dark-sapphire dress. On her middle finger was an oval shaped ring of what looked like onyx, the research he'd done in Harding Poole's public library suggested that it was one of two Sharpe family signet rings.

The woman said in a coldly courteous tone, "Welcome to Crimson Peak Estate and Allerdale Hall, Mr... ?"

It took him a second to perform a stiff bow and stammer, "Oh, Sear, my name is Cole Sear, err, Your Ladyship. It is, uh, an honour to meet you, Lady Lucille."

A look of faint surprise and disgust crossed Lucille's face before she curtsied, "What need do you have of us, Mr. Sear ?"

He scratched his hair absently, "Actually, I was wondering if I could help you and anyone else here cross over."

What was surely Thomas's voice broke in, "Well, you'll certainly have a time of it. Lucille and Edith have their own issues and I am not leaving without my sister." Thomas too was dark-haired and pale-skinned, but clad in a dark-emerald waist-coat and black-suit as he descended the stairs.

All he could do was ask, "What does that mean issues, Sir Sharpe ?" That got an offended look from the male ghost, so he tried, "Um, ah, I mean, Baronet Sharpe ? I am so sorry, I'm not used to talking to aristocracy as you can tell."

Lucille responded dryly, "It is like getting kicked by an apologetic horse."

Thomas chuckled at Lucille's quip then walked past him saying, "Edith is up in the library, at the typewriter, again. Since she died Edith has written over two hundred manuscripts."

Confused, he followed Thomas's instructions to the second floor library. All the while he had to wonder what made Edith return to the hall after death; perhaps it was her murder of Lucille, perhaps it was something else, he'd just have to find out.


	2. Evidence

Cole walked through the library toward the sound of a typewriter's soft clicking and sliding. Ten-foot tall shelves blocked most of the dim sunlight that managed to enter the dusty panes as he sighted a small, blond woman's ghost sat at a table in the far corner. The surrounding tables were covered in short, but numerous stacks of yellowed, moth-eaten manuscripts.

Edith stopped typing and looked up, "Oh, hello, I'm Ms. Cushing. Well, you must already know that since Thomas sent you here." Her eyes flitted over his clothes in wonder, "My, it's been a long time since I saw a living person. Who are you, what are you doing here ?"

It was nice to hear a New Yorker's voice, though Edith's was slightly different than his, compared to the Sharpes accents which sounded different than the ones down in Harding Poole. He moved to sit down beside her, "I'm Mr. Sear and I just wanted to know why you came back. Did you choose to come back here or did you die and wake up here ?"

Edith's grey-eyes turned angry, her fist clenching atop the table. "Lucille killed Thomas's son and drove his mother mad before killing her because they were stealing Thomas's attention ! How could I go on knowing that she did such and felt justified in it ? Not to mention that Thomas was having immoral, illegal sexual relations...with Lucille !" The woman's voice softened in sad disbelief. "He didn't even tell me willingly, Thomas only confirmed it when I...after I killed Lucille. As she lay dying, she taunted me that he loved her more and I couldn't ever understand him fully. Of course, I had suspected with their always being so close if I came into a room unexpectedly, t-the too affectionate tones and subtle gestures." Tears filled Edith's eyes and she choked. "But, I-I brushed my instincts aside thinking it an utterly ridiculous concept, that I was merely jealous at Lucille's being closer to my own husband than I was. Yet, in the end it was neither ridiculous nor simple jealousy, I was wilfully blind."

Certain passages from the transcribed diaries of the Sharpes, once innocuous sentences couched so deeply in floral prose they were easily dismissed, suddenly took on disturbing life. When he'd stumbled across Lucille's first subtle mention of being attracted to her little brother, he'd thought it was a mistake. Of course, he had because of its being written in a different time, since some of the words had different meanings then. Bile rose in his throat and he forced it back down. 

Impulsively, he reached out to Edith and it felt like he'd held a dripping hand outside during an arctic blizzard. Quickly, Cole pulled his hand away, replying, "I'm so sorry that this happened to you, Edith. It's not your fault you were in love, you didn't know any better and Thomas was something familiar in a strange place. Maybe if you told Thomas and Lucille this, told Thomas how much his betrayal hurt you, it would help. Instead of pouring your emotions into your writing, which feels good, but doesn't solve much if you got it off your chest in-person it would be better for everyone involved. Does that sound good ?"

The cream-clad woman nodded and got up, the darker brown ruffles at her waist and cuffs gleaming as she composed herself. When they turned and started walking, she asked. "Are you a seer's child, Mr. Sear ? What I mean is this - my paternal great-grandmother was a medium and because of this I was able to see ghosts whilst alive."

While he strode toward the library's exit, a sense of relief filled him at Edith's words. Though she'd been born nearly a hundred years ago, it meant that he wasn't the only one, he hadn't ever been. Silence for a bit as he tried to remember what Mom had told him about their family history.

Briefly, he shook his head as they walked out onto the landing. "No, I'm not, well, not that I know of. Can I ask, why do you look so young ? All the other ghosts I've met looked the same age as when they died, but the newspapers that I read back in the States said you died of old age."

Concentrated on descending the stairs, Edith answered in quiet tones. "If I knew why myself I would tell you. All I can think of is that perhaps I didn't want to feel out of place looking so old when Lucille and Thomas died in their younger years. It's so odd when I first met them they were ten years older than me, yet after I died, I was thirty years older and didn't look it. You know, Mr. Sear, I never thought when I killed Lucille that it would affect him so much, I didn't think Thomas would...kill himself. If I had known what it would cause I might have tried to find some other way, but in the moment it happened I felt there was no other choice. All I know for sure is this; the three of us are bound here whether it is because of our self or others."

Hushed, but angry words drifted to them, "Lucille, we will never leave if you keep being so childish !"

Lucille's words were bitter, "She stole you from me and were that not enough she murdered me."

"You consented to that when we came up with the plan to kill her. You cannot blame Edith for doing that which you planned her to do."

The Lady hissed, "That doesn't matter, Thomas ! You betrayed me because of her, you did hardly a thing while I lay dying, for that alone she deserved death." and glared at Edith as they stepped onto the entrance hall's floor.

Thomas retorted, "What did you expect of me, Sister ? To force you to stay alive ?"

It was awkward for him, so it must've been impossible for Edith to hear her sister-in-law shout, "I expected you to avenge me !"

"You know that I loved her and how I feel of vengeance, you could not, should not, have expected that from me."

Nervously, he and Edith approached the hearth and the Sharpes. Now that he had not only the physical evidence, but also verbal confirmation how was he going to help when their issues were interconnected as a Celtic knot ?


	3. Forgiveness ?

Sunlight warmed Cole as he folded his hands behind his back, wringing them as he surveyed the three ghosts. Edith was trying to hide her nervousness, while Lucille panted in anger and Thomas revealed nothing at all about his state. He was surprised that Edith didn't flinch when Thomas reached out to take her hand, instead her nerves transformed into pity.

Edith took a deep breath, "Thomas, I know that you loved me, truly, I know. It is just, how could you not tell me that I was your affair ? How could you not realize how betrayed I was by your actions ? To use one of your insults, Lucille always treated me like a bint and you didn't defend me. I had always suspected it, but to find out that it was indeed the reason she was terrible to me...it was horrid. I felt as if I had never truly mattered to you. Not when you could lie so easily to not only me, but also God only knows how many other women. Do you know what she did to your son, to your how-many-numbers wife before killing her ? Do you even feel remorse for what you've done to the ones before me ?" 

Thomas stroked Edith's hand gently before saying, "I am sorry for what I did to you, Edith. It was not fair of me to keep so much important information from you, from Madison, Bianca...Angelika. How could I not be angry at Lucille for killing Angelika and I's Henry ? Henry was lovely, he was the only reason that I cared a thing for Angelika." Thomas shook his head, "Not only did I lie to them, I took everything that I could from them. Know that I did it not gleefully nor fully reluctantly, I did it because it was the only way Lucille and I could survive for any good length of time. Only after I met you did I come to know the true extent of my actions, Lucille's. I-I do not think that I deserve forgiveness."

Lucille glared at the blond; a bone-chilling cold filled the rotting hall and he shivered.

The Lady spat, "You should have stayed in America ! All you have ever done is ruin my life and, now, my death as well like the arrogant little cunt that you are. Why...why could you not leave us in peace ?!"

It was at the bitter and hateful tones that he saw Thomas' trust in his sister waver then finally crumble.

Thomas let go of Edith, turning to Lucille in disbelief, "Peace, you call wandering this place unable to ever leave it, peace ? I've had enough, I want to leave...can you not give up this hatred and come with me ? Please, Lucille, I-I truly don't wish to go without you."

"No, no ! She ruined everything that we had, that we stood for." Scared and defensive, Lucille huffed, "Fine, if you want her so badly then...then go, I'll not be along."

He'd never seen many ghosts cross over, so, he didn't know if it was common or something taking advantage of the building, but a ray of sunlight suddenly enveloped Edith and Thomas. The room warmed as the light shimmered over them turning an impossibly bright shade of white before it faded away and they too were gone.

Devastation crossed the pale-skinned woman's face after she whispered, "T-Thomas ?" and there was no answer. Lucille suddenly crumpled to the floor sobbing before she glanced up at him. "Mr. Sear, surely there is something you can do."

His steps heavy with regret he moved to crouch beside her. "There is nothing that I can do."

A new female voice spoke then, "It is up to you, my dear daughter, to give up this incessant and near irrational hatred."

Both he and Lucille looked up to see the blackish-grey silhouette of a woman's ghost. 

"M-Mother ? What are you doing here ?"

Lady Sharpe glided over to take Lucille's hands and pull her up. One shadowy hand reached up to caress Lucille's cheek, "How could I bear to leave my children alone in this house knowing its history ? I loved you too much to leave you. Please, realize that Edith alone was not at fault in this. It was as much your fault as hers, I tried to warn you when I noticed this obsession, but you ran away from me."

"I-I am sorry, Mother, I did not know it was you. For years Thomas only had me and I him. I hated that of all Thomas's wives it was the American that could take him away. But, Thomas was right, I cannot fault her doing as I wanted her to do. I remember the confusion, the fear when Thomas wasn't there. I was so overjoyed when he came back and she wasn't here any more, but I was scared to go on. I couldn't bear to leave the only place I truly knew, it is my own fault, for killing Henry and the others, I know that now." Lucille looked down at him, "Thank you for coming, Mr. Sear, I could not have realized this had you not forced us to talk to each other."

Slowly, Cole got to his feet, "I'm only glad that I could help you all find acceptance, forgiveness."

"Forgiveness ? It is odd to feel it when my victims are long gone from here."

Both the Ladies Sharpe walked into the now returned ray of sunlight. The Celtic knot had finally unraveled, he returned to the library, picked up one of Edith's completed manuscripts, went outside to gently close the ancient gates and left Allerdale Hall behind.     


End file.
